Warmth
by Exilo
Summary: During a routine recon mission, Priya Kanlaee is faced with challenges, both natural and human. She finds aid in an odd source, a Brute chieftain. One shot, R&R please. Sangheili-centric with a streak of Jiralhanae. Enjoy.


**I was so sad when Pae went away for the holiday. I wrote this up as a little gift. Priya appears courtesy of her. And a special thank you to Insidious Harbinger for beta reading.**

_Warmth_

"This is Charlie 3: all quiet on the southern front."

Corporal Tomas Neville, in such heavy clothing as to ward off the heavy frost and snow, rode along the barren white landscape of the planet, which the soldiers had taken to calling "Hoth", a reference to some ancient movie Tomas had never seen. A storm was approaching, or so Command said, so everyone was ordered to get to shelter. Yet his commanding officer insisted that he make one final sweep over the border before retreating into the base, if it could be called that at all. They hadn't been on this planet long, and it wasn't easy to build a base when there was only a few hours a day that could be used to work. Instead of a formal base with walls and towers, they had made a dozen or so crude settlements in the middle of a clearing. These…tents and igloos really, had so far managed to keep them safe from the planet's dangers. He groaned, adjusting his goggles. Any part of his skin that was exposed would be frostbitten in minutes. He didn't like wearing this much clothing, but it beat the alternative. Sighing, and revving the engine of his mongoose, he started off to the second checkpoint. It was frustrating work. Every few minutes he had to stop the mongoose, wipe his goggles on his gloves, then continue forward, only for the snowflakes that seemed to be on the planet at all times obscure his vision. He could just about scream.

"This is Charlie 3 at second check point…Command, do you copy?" He sighed, putting the brakes on the mongoose. "Oh, of course, the radios have to die. This is hell after all, radios die in hell."

He lifted his gaze, noticing a heavy roar over the whirling of the wind and approaching storm. Then he felt something cold burst through his back and out his chest, and looking down, he saw a long, curved blade of metal protruding out his left breast. The blade was smeared with red fluid, which almost instantly froze in the cold air. He felt cold as a matter a fact. The opening in his armor and chest, from being impaled from behind by the blade, allowed the cold air to blow inside him, and freeze his core. More than pain from being stabbed, it felt like his blood was turning to ice inside him. He wasn't even bleeding; it just froze too fast for that. The blade slid out the same way it had come in. He fell to the ground, dead before he touched the snow.

The Sangheili looked over her blade, growling inside her helmet at the frozen sheen of crimson that now adorned her weapon. "Disgusting," she muttered, before setting the blade back in the sheath on her back. She had heard the loud whine over the air as well, but passed it off as one of the native beasts. She had a mission to take care of, and began jogging to the human base several meters away. This planet was of no interest to the Covenant. Instead, it was of interest to the humans, which in turn made it something of interest to the Covenant. Rather than simply glassing the planet, she had been sent down first, to learn what the humans were doing. Then they would glass it, and wipe the human filth from the surface.

The air was cold. Stealth operative Priya Kanlaee took a moment to rub her hands together for warmth. Even in a full body suit and face shielded with a helmet that embraced ever inch of her skin, the air managed to get through. She was so cold.

Reaching the outskirts of the human base, which was really just a jumble of settlements made of steel or snow, she squatted. Though having the best camouflage that the Covenant could produce, the snowy air could be her downfall. No amount of camouflage hidthe snowflakes piling on top of her. She should be safe at a distance, but if any snipers or scouts noticed her, it might end badly. She squatted behind a snow dune and settled down. Ah…that was betteractually. Hiding behind the mound of snow, she was shielded from the biting wind. She peeked out and looked over, and studied the human base with the magnification in her helmet. There didn't seem to be anything of interest. The humans just seemed to be standing there in their heavy wrappings and coats, holding their primitive weapons. There were several "houses" there, that seemed to be made of snow, aside from the tents and cobbled metal bases. Could they possibly hold the secrets? She couldn't risk drawing closer, and truth be told, they were too small to hide anything important; most likely shelters for the infantry.

Grumbling, she shook off the snow on her shoulders and headed for the next snow bank, which was slightly closer. To do so, she braced herself for the wind that buffeted her now that she was in the open. She gritted her mandibles together until safely behind cover, and then let a sigh of relief escape her as she reached the sweet shield of the next bank.

Behind her, the sound of heavy feet crunching the snow. She looked over her shoulder, and noticed a very large creature huffing towards her. A Jiralhanae, and by the hammer on his back, a chieftain. He was moving in a low squat, perhaps to reduce visibility. He seemed to be wearing white cloth raps over most of his body, though by looking carefully she could see brown strands of fur spilling out of the openings. He was carrying a Spiker in hand, and every few steps he would grow to full height and sniff the cold air,then lower back down.

Priya growled under her breath, quietly drawing the sword from her back and curving around the Jiralhanae in a wide arc. Her footsteps were covered fast enough by the drifting snow. Never the less, upon taking position at snow bank she had been at, he squatted down. He sniffed again, then looked to the ground, and traced a finger over the touched snow. It was at that time that Priya came behind him, putting the sharp blade to his throat.

"…Sangheili?" he finally asked. "I can smell you."

"Keep your voice down, Brute," she hissed. He growled under his breath. She put a foot into the back of his knee, knocking him lower, then putting a hand on his shoulder, she pulled him back. He landed with a heavy sound of crashing snow. She took up position on his chest, putting a knee to his throat and the blade held, the tip just at his eye. Slowly, she deactivated her camouflage, and even under her helmet, a grin was visible. "What are you doing out here?" she asked in the smallest audible voice.

The chieftain growled. "I am to kill the humans," he snarled. He craned his neck, trying to move his head, as the blade grew closer to his eye. "I was ordered by a San 'Shyuum. Upon victory, she would present this campaign to the hierarchs to achieve great honor." He growled all the louder as the blade moved down at touched his cheek. _Is that one of our blades?_ he silently wondered.

A gust of wind forced her into a series of shudders. She almost envied the Jiralhanae. His wrappings did seem to be some protection, but no doubt his thick skin and fur aided that.

"I take it you are the same?" the chieftain asked.

Priya nodded slightly. With a shake of her head to clear the ever growing snow. She stood, and turned back to the settlement. "Go back to your den, or warren, or wherever it is you Jiralhanae sleep at. This is my mission, not yours."

The chieftain stood and moved after her, squatting behind the cover of the dune. After confirming that the humans had not noticed (how could they with the ever growing storm all around them?), he turned to her, noticing her shivers. Even with the active camouflage, he could see the snow on her form shake and shiver. "Stupid Sangheili," he muttered. He didn't bother thinking it that time, the words oozed out of his lips and through his teeth. "To come out without any source of warmth. Or is that against your honor as well?"

She turned to him, tempted to cut off his head, when she noticed he was no longer looking at her. He had set the satchel he carried at his blind side down, and at last pulled out what looked like a blanket. "Rub this on your hands. If you cannot pull a trigger, what good are you?" The blanket was a Covenant design, made for recon in this sort of setting. The friction of rubbing skin against it "activated" it, instantly warmed the cloth. She tensed at the heat, then relaxed, and a slight upturn of the mandibles gave her a smile. It might have been the wind, but he thought he heard a slight "thank you". Actually, she wanted to bury her face in it and warm herself, but that wouldn't look good in front of the chieftain. The chieftain settled down. "What are you doing with our blade? Stole it from one of us?"

"No, I did not. It is a blade of _your_ craft, but I did not steal it. I simply had it commissioned."

"Is that not a tarnish on your honor?" he growled, looking to her.

The Sangheili paused a moment, choosing her next words. "If I may kill the heathens, does the blade I use matter?"

"It matters greatly if that blade is crafted by a lowly Brute. At least that is what your kind preach." The chieftain turned to the humans. "What have you learned of them?"

"They are…baffling creatures, not too many in the area, and those that are just stand idly. I don't understand why they are here. There are no blessed structures, no resources for them to take, no Covenant outposts they might seek to raid. Why are they here?"

"Perhaps for no other reason than to survive. This planet is out of the way, and our Unggoy would not last an hour. They must have hoped to pass under our snouts. _I _should be able to complete this mission on _my_ own, as I was ordered."

"I have my own orders," she hissed.

The chieftain growled, and the thought of killing her was rather obvious. Instead, he looked back to the humans, perhaps thinking to use his impulses in a more constructive way. He stared a while, and Priya took his distraction to press her face into the heated fabric. She smiled, nuzzling into it. Warmth, in such a cold land, was a true blessing, even if it came from a Brute. She set it back down and looked to him. "I've counted eight humans," she said. "Assault rifles mostly. Pistol side arms. Grenades. No vehicles. And I would doubt any snipers, since humans couldn't survive out here alone. They are almost all huddling together like frightened Unggoy. It should be easy enough to slaughter them in one swoop."

"Yes," the chieftain said, pulling a Spike grenade from his belt. Priya was going to say something. She was going to say she would go in first and kill a stragglers with a swift slash of her blade. Then move into the center were several were talking. But the orange grenade was already spinning through the air, and landed in the center of that mass of humans. They screamed, trying to scramble away, just as it exploded and littered their bodies with orange shrapnel. The Jiralhanae snorted, and began to walk forward, casually shooting off his Spiker.

"Barbarian," she muttered, taking the plasma rifle off her hip and opening fire herself. She actually felt bad for the humans. They were so dulled by the cold and lack of combat for so long, they just stood there as their comrades were cut down. They did try to fight, and lift their weapons to shoot, but it was just a slaughter. For a Brute, he did know how to fight. Shoot the flanks to keep the humans bunched together, then putting a stream of orange spikes or blue orbs of plasma into them.

"This is boring," the chieftain snorted, putting a new clip into his Spiker. Setting the weapon on his belt, he took his hammer, and with a roar, charged into the clearing, swinging lunatic. A part of Priya wanted to join him. To look the enemy in the eye as they were slain, what greater honor is there to claim? And though she was proud of her aim with a rifle, she was prouder of her swordsmanship. But the chieftain seemed to be quite capable of slaughtering the humans, and more importantly, she did not want to be caught by one of his mad swings.

The battle ended quick enough. The chieftain let out a roar of triumph. Again, she rolled her eyes. While the chieftain wandered through the clearing, Priya picked the blanket back up and reveled in the warmth, as it heated through her skintight suit and armor. She gazed at the Brute passively, as he lowered to all fours and waddled into one of the little ice houses the humans had erected. Over the wind's whistle, Priya heard a shot, then a roar, then a scream. Drawing her blade, she approached the opening of the ice house. There was a flicker of white, and a human crawled out on all fours, screaming in panic. She swung her blade down, and sliced clean through his neck. Taking a few steps back, she prepared for another human to emerge. Instead, out came the chieftain. "There were ten humans," he growled. "The ninth sent out a distress signal. This area will be attacked with whatever forces they hold in this planet. We should get going."

Priya sighed, looking back. "It's…it's a long way back. And the storm is picking up. Where is your ship?"

"Not far. And I've a vehicle to carry myself back. Farewell Sangheili." The chieftain turned and started off.

"Brute…" Priya shouted, chasing after. She frowned at the thought of traveling with the Jiralhanae. Even so, the alternative was a vain attempt at reaching her ship. If his was closer, and he had a vehicle, it was just logical. "Your ship is closer? As we _are _comrades, I would ask that you give me shelter until the storm passes, and I may return to my ship." The chieftain turned. Her eyes widened slightly. "You're hurt?" She noticed the large gaping wound across his right cheek. Apparently, the ninth or tenth human had managed to get a shot off.

The chieftain snorted once. "It is nothing. We are comrades, aren't we? When you need shelter or you need a meat shield, we are even friends."He growled loudly, louder than the wind. "Come along."

Priya's mandibles tensed. She struggled through the cold after him. "Thank you," she muttered.

Ahead of her, the Jiralhanae stopped and looked back. "What?"

Was he really going to make her say it again? For a moment, freezing to death did not seem that bad. "Thank…you…for the aid."

"It is alright, Sangheili. Despite our kind's tension, we are allies, for now at least."

Allies. She inwardly grimaced at the thought of her brothers learning of this operation. That she had not only worked alongside a Brute, but was now asking his aid. They didn't respect her. She had worked twice as hard as any male to reach half as far. Whatever honor she had managed to claim through successful campaigns would be crushed by word of the Jiralhanae's aid.

"Just over the hill," he said, looking back. She lifted her gaze, blinking once. Still rubbing her hands with the warm fabric, she started the slight climb up to the hill. The storm was picking up, and at the top, the wind was nearly strong enough to blow her over. Soon, even the Jiralhanae with his fur and clothes would succumb to the coldness. Wordlesslyhe shuffled down to the base of the hill, and climbed onto his Chopper. Despite a Chopper's size (twice the size of the Sangheili's preferred vehicle), there was only one seat. A single seat. Priya stared, until the Jiralhanae said, "Come." He climbed into the seat, and gestured for his lap.

Oh, by the rings no. Anything but that. "Sangheili," the chieftain said, annoyance clear in his voice. "Come."

She sighed and sobbed inside her helmet. Walking over, arms around her chest as if to ward off any stares and slights, she moved to the vehicle and sat down in his wide lap. To steer, the chieftain put his thick arms around her and took hold of the bars. His foot found the accelerator. He revved the engine, making an awful racket. She settled down a bit, the thickness of his body surrounding her actually keeping her warm from the batting winds. And he was warm beneath her. She smiled, thinking him more as a blanket than anything, a warmed cushion. Yes, that helped matters a great deal.

He revved the engine again, and the Chopper lurched forward. The suddenness sent Priya back into his thick chest. She groaned slightly, but managed. She had never ridden a Chopper, and found it all and all unpleasant. The vehicle must have needed strength. Looking at the chieftain drive, she swore, he didn't steer so much as pull and push the entire front of the vehicle in the direction he wanted. While her personal Ghost glided and slide easily and gently, this roaring monstrosity snarled and bucked with each direction.

She shivered when the chieftain leaned forward and put his chin just on her shoulder. "Where is your ship? Mine is two miles in this direction we are heading."

Priya groaned, not sure if she should turn her head to look at him or what. "Six miles east."

He increased the speed, though did so a little slower so she wouldn't splat against him. Even if her Ghost could have moved faster, there was merit with the Chopper. For one, when faced with a large pile of snow, it simply pounded through instead of needing to be driven around. And when in a straight line, it had a good speed.

The ship was small, most likely a recon ship made for only one crew, though in emergencies it could take four or five, and perhaps a dozen Unggoy or Kig-Yar if they all piled in. The Chopper groaned to a halt, and Priya nearly threw herself off his lap and onto solid ground. Instantly, the cold air reclaimed her, stealing whatever warmth she had with the chieftain. The chieftain followed at her heels, then overtook her in walking. The storm _had_ started now. The wind was violent and screaming. Lifting an arm in front of his face to keep his vision clear, he pulled the Chopper towards the back of the ship, and then pushed it into a very small hangar. Walking back to the ship's front, he activated the grav lift. He stepped in, and was pulled into the ship, smiling as he touched the ground.

He touched his face, remembering the wound the human with the pistol, in the little house made of snow, had inflicted. Without the coldness of the air, the blood already began to flow and slicken his face. Behind him, he turned to see the Sangheili coming up the grav lift. She didn't land with any grace. When inside the ship, she fell forward, and crumpled weakly onto the ground. She was holding her left side, and looking up to the chieftain, screamed so loud his ears felt like they would burst.

"Sniper," she breathed. "Sniper. In the snow. They must have seen your ship and camped out." The chieftain turned to the control panel beside the grav lift. First, he shut the pull off incase the humans were so brazen to come onto his ship. With the storm approaching, next he sealed the ship. The ship's legs retracted into the body, and the whole ship lowered flat onto its belly. Windows and flaps sealed tight, then covered with sealed covering. Lights flickered on lowly, but power would be maintained at an emergency level only. The ship was locked down, safe from whatever heathen was still out there, lurking.

The chieftain squatted, and scooped the wounded Sangheili into his arms. She squirmed, either by instinct of sheer disgust at being held by a Jiralhanae. Her hand remained tight around the wound, but he could see slightly luminescent purple blood bubble up. He took her to the largest living quarters and set her down on the bed. Retreating a moment, he came back into the room carrying a small knife. She started to squirm and shiver at that sight, but the chieftain waved a hand before settling down. "I have to remove your armor," he said.

Carefully, with grace that bellied a Jiralhanae's nature, he sliced into the armor. Carefully, he pried off the larger sections, then pressed the blade tip to the skin suit carefully. Working a large hole, he put two fingers in, and began pulling the armor weave apart. "You're a female?" he asked.

"Yes," Priya said. If she survived this, there would be nothing of her honor intact.

With the pressure from her armor removed, she began to bleed all the more profusely. Using two fingers, The chieftain pinched her wound until the bleeding slowed. "Apply pressure," he said, and she nodded weakly, setting her hands back to the spot. Again, he left the room, only to come back with a canister of human biofoam. "This will hurt," he said simply, and pressed the nozzle into the wound before injecting.

Yes, it did hurt. It felt like a thousand tiny humans were stabbing her from within. She growled, digging into the bed beneath her with long fingers. Somewhere, some human had to be laughing at her. The shot had nearly killed her, but at least that pain was less than this.

The chieftain took some time to examine her body. She had that same grayish brown skin any Sangheili had, and purple eyes. Several scars were visible, one on her shoulder, one on her ankle, one on her knee. She was thin, though that was most likely due to her gender. He had only ever dealtwith the muscular males. As he walked to the mirror to inspect his own wounds, he began taking off the thick cloth, showing the brown fur beneath. Last was the face, which he had to pull and yank as the blood had crusted. He growled, looking over the wound. "Rest for now," he said. "When the storm has passed, I will take you to your ship. He turned to leave.

"Chieftain," Priya said. "Chieftain…again, I must thank you for your kindness."

"My name is Exilius. I am hardly a chieftain."

"I am Stealth Operative Priya Kanlaee. I am aware that we are under the same banner, but I am equally aware of your kind's animosity to my kind. For not giving into it, I say thank you."

"I have seen too many incompetent Jiralhanae to give into such species pride. I base opinion by merit. And that you are smart enough to carry one of our blades shows great merit. It _is_ one of our blades, is it not? I recognize the craftsmanship. May I see it?"

She looked to the floor, and noticed that her weapons had been removed along with her armor. Reaching down and taking it, she offered it to him. He took it by the sheath, then the handle between two fingers and slid it out. He examined it, slashing the air a moment. Then, seemingly bored, he returned it. "Odd design. The craftsmanship is Jiralhanae, but not the design. I don't see why it must be so thin. Or curved like that." He returned it to her side.

"I fought a human once," she said. "Taller, stronger, than any others, and clad in this strange green armor. He used a blade like that." She paused, and smiled, as if remembering something wonderful. "It was a great fight. But then, before a victor could be determined, he turned and fled. For his cowardice, I took his blade." She thought again, perhaps wondering why she was talking so casually with a Brute. What did it really matter? "I found that blade's design quite appealing, but the dimensions were off. So I had one of your bladesmiths design this."

"Is it not a taint on your honor to use a blade crafted by _us_, and designed by _them_?"

Priya spread her arms, showing her chest. "I am a female. Great honor is not something I may strive for. It is not granted to me. I am skilled with that weapon, I may kill the heathens with that weapon, and that is all I care about."

The chieftain stood and looked back at her. "Sleep. You must recover."

Priya nodded, eyes slowly closing as she brought her blade a bit closer to herself, holding it like a toy of childhood. She reached down, and brought a blanket over her to keep her warm. She was still so cold. She doubted the coldness inside her would ever thaw. But reasonably content, she slipped away. The chieftain moved into the armory and retrieved his green armor. His face was still bleeding. He wrapped a makeshift bandage over it (which did little to nothing) before putting on his helmet. Now, heading to the cockpit, he settled in the seat. He tried contacting someone, but the storm was too thick. His face was throbbing, but he reclined in his seat and settled into a rough sleep.

***

Sleep was fitful and painful. Priya sat up slowly. Her side still had that aching with those thousands of tiny humans stabbing her, but she had gotten used to it by now. And she was alive. She had lasted through the night. With the aid of a Brute, yes, but she had survived, and there was a level of pride she took in that. A sniper's bullet, a coward's bullet, had failed to kill her. The cold, nature itself, had failed to kill her. Yes, she had been aided by a Brute, but by her own merit she had survived at all. At the side of her bed, her armor lay in a heap. No sense in trying to put it back on, so instead she wrapped the blanket around her in a makeshift dress and headed off to find the Jiralhanae.

She found the chieftain in the cockpit, laying back. She had followed the booming of his snore. She looked down at the blade she was carrying with her, her prized blade she had for so long wanted to test on a Brute's thick skin. He was sleeping there so sweetly. It was not as if she had any problem with killing an enemy in their sleep. As part of her position, assassination and stabbing from behind was a common tactic for her. It would be such a simple matter to dump the body outside.

She set the blade back at her side and used her other hand to nudge the chieftain. Her hand touched the fur on his neck, and she recoiled slightly. She noticed he was bleeding rather badly from the wound on his face, the blood soaking and saturating the fur on his body. She groaned under her breath, wiping her hand on the blanket. "Chieftain," she said lowly.

He snorted, opening his eyes and looking around at her. "What?" he snorted, settling back into the seat.

"May we go back to my ship?" she asked. "I…do not want to burden you any longer."

He growled, before cocking his head to the co-pilot's seat. Tugging the blanket tighter around her, she sat down in the seat and settled in. It was quite large, perhaps made for a Jiralhanae, or even a male Sangheili. She was comfortable actually. At her side, the chieftain flipped several switches and buttons. The ship's armor slipped back into its resting place, and the engines purred to life. "My ship is six miles from here," she said lowly. She doubted he needed her assistance to fly. The heat of the ship's engines melted the snow off the hull. She looked around. After a bit, the ship lifted off the ground, and began flying to the destination. Wanting to do something, Priya looked to the scanners. "No humans, it would seem. Perhaps the storm killed them all off. Were it so easy."

The chieftain flew the ship to the area, circling her ship once or twice, running several scans of the area, but he found no humans there. There were no markings of their body heat against the cold ground, and visually, he saw no ruffles in the snow. Jiralhanae did not have good eye sight, but their sense of smell was quite good. To use it, he would need to leave the ship. "Stay here," he growled. "Something is amiss. And if you die, I will have trouble explaining to your brothers what happened. Your scent is already on here."

Priya looked to him, before leaning back in her chair passively, pulling her sword to her. The chieftain went through the grav lift and landed on the ground, looking up. On one of the monitors, Priya watched him passively as his great form, now covered in green armor, shuffled through the snow. Mentally, she willed him on. She hoped that this was a trap and the humans would spring out of the snow like flowers, only to be cut down by his Spiker and hammer. Slowly, she inched her blade out of the sheath, and returned it to its resting place. Out, staring at the glistening metal, then back in. There was still a coating of red. She would have to clean it later, before it damaged the blade too greatly. If he needed her, she would go down and help him. She would. She looked back to the monitor. The chieftain was at the ship, looking around slowly. In the detailed picture, she watched him turn his head, snout bobbing in the cold air, hammer held tight. Like any ship, there was a control pad on the belly to activate the grav lift. He wouldn't put it past the humans to sneak aboard the ship and lie in wait. They were cowardly enough.

Instead it was a bomb. Tripped, timed, or activated from some remote place, it exploded. In front of him, the ship exploded. The fiery heat embraced him, followed by a bang, and a push that sent him skidding and sliding over the snow. The hull exploded out, and a large piece, as well as the waves of heat, slammed into him and knocked the breath from his lungs. Finally, he came to rest face down in the snow.

Priya swallowed and took the controls. The monitors were all focused on the massive green armored lump on the white snow. She guided the ship over, finally hovering just over him and activated the grav lift. She watched his furry, burnt body lift into the ship. Then she was tearing through the hallways towards the ship, finally reaching the grav lift opening just as the body came up and landed on the ground with a loud thud. Settling down beside him, she began prying off the armor and setting the weapons still attached to his body off. Not that that was hard. It had taken the brunt of the explosion, which most likely saved the chieftain's life but ripped the armor off his body.

She paused a moment, and wondered why she doing this, and her hands fell down at her sides. The chieftain was panting and groaning, and bleeding profusely. Slitting his throat; taking his life with her own hand and blade was one thing. Jiralhanae were, after all, comrades. But to just leave him here to die was not breaking any covenant. His blood was on human's hands.

She sighed, prying the armor away, which just caused more blood to bubble out of the assortment of wounds. When the ship exploded, the hull itself must have served as shrapnel, lacing into the chieftain's body. She decided that a very large wound in his belly was worse. She took his hand and placed it on his belly, and whispered, "Keep pressure." Standing, and heading for the cockpit, she activated the engines. She set the ship to autopilot, and ordered it to reach the atmosphere. Hurrying to the bedroom, she grabbed the medical supplies, before returning to the chieftain. He was still alive, and looked to her weakly, even fearful. Settling down, she began working. For the gaping wound in his belly, she used what biofoam was left to seal it. For the smaller slashes all across him, she lathered her hands with a healing salve, and began working it into his body. The salve was not as efficient as biofoam, but it would seal the scraps and gashes well enough. "Your fur is disgusting," she muttered. Not only that, it made reaching the wounds difficult. With her free hand, she had to splay the matted strands apart. "Which was the last Age you bathed in?"

She looked to his hand, noticing it tense into a fist. No doubt if he had the strength she would be dead now, but he didn't have the strength, and she smiled at that and decided to continue the verbal battery. "Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting."

"Just…" he groaned. "Do it."

She sighed, and smiled slightly, still working the salve through the revolting fur. He looked up to her, panting slightly at her hands. "Thank you."

Priya stopped, and smiled. "What was that, I didn't hear."

The chieftain growled. "Thank you. You…you could have left me to freeze and bleed. Thank you."

Priya smiled, and resumed working the salves through his fur. His groans and growls seemed to yield to something softer, and a bit happier. She sniffed the air, noticing something pungent and heavy, and looking down the chieftain's now bare body she noticed the source. She nearly vomited and looked away. This time, without a playful glint, she said, "You…are…disgusting."

The chieftain growled, sitting up weakly, but not making eye contact. He resembled a beaten Unggoy just then. For several minutes, there was silence. Finally, Priya sighed and looked back to see the chieftain had calmed himself down. "Can you walk?"

The chieftain looked down, and shook his head. Sighing, Priya walked over, and put both hands to his arm. She squatted, and started to lift. In turn, the chieftain pushed up and, after extensive effort from both parties, he was standing. "My hammer?" he asked.

"It was attached to your armor. It is just on the floor." She slipped his arm over her shoulders and stared to head for the cockpit. The wound in her own belly was starting to act up, but for now she ignored it. Steps were slow and painful. The chieftain growling and grunts were about the only sound. At last, she aided him in sitting on the captain chair. She practically fell into the co-pilot's seat, groaning from her wound and panting from the exertion of carrying the chieftain. She undid her wrapping, and instead curled up into it, it now serving as an oversized blanket. "Why did you choose to aid me? I…I don't even know why I chose to save you."

The chieftain shrugged. "We are allies."

"Chieftain, lean back. You are bleeding on the controls." Under her breath, she managed a giggle. This was rather fun actually. The chieftain groaned. He almost wished he had been killed. That was a quite a common feeling for him lately. He looked to her, a bit confused by how she acted. She was biting him again and again, yet it was somehow playful. He watched her lean back and close her eyes. "I pray the next mission is someplace warm."


End file.
